Press play on the machine,
Play my CD,
Thoughts move along the disk,
Playful words within me,
Sign up to my playlist,
Dot the I’s,
Cross the T’s,
Your eyes see dots across my polo T-shirt,
Words can be weapons,
Gunplay can really hurt,
When bullets tapdance on the stage of flesh,
Causing much distress,
You’re playing with a water pistol,
Playing in a water fight,
With a fistful of,
Wet balloons,
Don’t get wet too soon,
Better yet,
Let’s stay outside and play in the rain,
Living in the moment,
Playing the weather game,
Whether I gain or lose,
From playtime or staying on the grind,
Trying to fall forward,
To not get left behind,
In the playground,
Swinging in the jungle,
Where monkeys bar my escape,
To work my way out of,
The place where Jack stays,
Where dullness fades away,
In the shade of the colour of my imagination,
Acting out plays,
Through the characters of my mind,
Who’s lives ride the waves of my brain,
Playing on the stage of my hippocampus,
Reminds me of the times,
In the zoo,
Playing with hippos on campus,
But I digress,
Please digest,
All my words and semantics,
As I play with my imagination,
You will see what makes this man tick.


Alone: the reprisal – a short poem.

The sky might fall,
but I won’t let it drop on me,
the ground may disappear,
but I’ll be walking on the fallen sky,
and look down with hope and faith,
not fear,
because I’m guided by belief,
not what I can see or hear,
so here on this status they may say that I’m crazy,
but this is method to my madness,
I’m definite, not maybe……

©Word of Mouth.


Happiness has got me in a good state of mind,
Mindful of the fact that I am bound by grace,
Sometimes I chase with haste,
The so-called joys of this life,
When in fact most of them are waste,
Fruitless journeys slowly attempt to turn me,
Into the person I least want to be,
Until I realised that the tints on my periphery was all I could see,
What I took in with my eyes disguised the reason I was locked up,
When all along I was outside running towards prison,
Negating thoughts turned my rainbow into a grey scale prism,
Indecision caused by what was going on around me,
When all along I had the choice to turn away,
And my choices are the rut that I was stuck in yesterday,
Because today I get stuck in to these verses,
My food for thought,
Looking back at the silly battles I fought,
Armed with paper armour,
Reaping the bad seeds I’d sown,
Like an evil farmer,
So I popped down to God’s pharmacy,
He provided me the medicine of life,
The elixir, the fixer, the key ingredient in the mixer,
So now I strife and hunt from side to side,
Burning towers of hurt that I built up inside,
To build a new city of hope,
With a lighthouse built on two planks of wood, 4 nails, a crown of thorns, pulled up by bloody rope,
That is where I look to,
When I see the rubble of my troubles,
Light shining over the horizon,
As I see the son rising,
The swimmer gleams through my eyes,
Blinded by the lights,
The presence caught me by surprise,
But now I realise and visualise the feeling felt when I was a boy,
No beautiful nightmare,
Just crazy in love with that feeling of joy.

©Word Of Mouth
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